


Grace and Soul

by Anjika



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Angst, Cannon-Complaint Destiel, Comedy of Errors, Emotional Hurt, Friendship, Gen, Hell Flashbacks, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Malfunctioning Angel Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Sibling Rivalry, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:09:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjika/pseuds/Anjika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam survived the trials, barely. Castiel is missing and Dean has been driving Sam stir crazy insisting they stay out of trouble. That is, until Sam discovers a sign of fallen grace in Colorado. When they investigate Dean gets himself into a lot of trouble that leads him back into the path of his favourite angel and forces Dean to deal with his scars from hell and a power that is slowly destroying everything that he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Chapter that is the Prologue

“I don’t need to feel like hell for failing you. For failing you like I failed every godforsaken thing I've ever cared about, I don’t need it!”

***

They’d been in the bunker for a month now. Sam was getting rather agitated with his brother for not letting him leave or go anywhere. Dean insisted upon going out on his own whenever they needed supplies. Sam felt like he was locked in a dungeon with nothing to do but lie around and stare at the ceiling. So he kept himself busy by keeping an eye out for omens and disaster reports... but there was nothing. With the angels falling, he’d expected chaos, but the world seemed unchanged. It was more than a little unnerving.

Dean sat heavily on the couch they’d moved into the main room of the bunker, beer in hand. He knew he was driving Sammy stir crazy, refusing to let him leave but Dean couldn't bring himself to put Sammy anywhere near danger right now. Even if he was driving himself a bit mad, stuck in this place. He liked the bunker, but he didn't like it month-long-quarantine-much. And there was Cas... He lay his head into the back of the couch sighing. He hadn't heard anything from the damned angel. He’d been praying, each prayer getting more clipped and angry, honestly, he'd probably scared him off... if he was still alive. He took a swig from his beer and leaned forward allowing his arms to drape over his knees head hanging. Cas was alive. If he wasn't Dean would know, wouldn't he? Cas always came back. No way he just disappears and that’s the end of him. No, Cas would be back, Sam was getting better and everything was going to be fine.

Just fine.

Dean was fine.

“Hey Dean! I think I found something.”

Dean looked up to see Sammy staring feverishly at his computer, a half-grin marring his normally pouty face. Oh good a distraction! 

***

Dean had only agreed to take Sammy with him because he had no idea what he was dealing with. Well, that, and... he thought Sam was going to punch him if he made him stay put when something interesting was finally happening. He really didn't want Sammy to hurt himself. Dean always watched out for his fragile baby bro.

“What are you grinning about?” Sam said with an expression that clearly expressed he had a good idea of the direction Dean's thoughts were going in.

“Nothing.” Dean corrected his smirk with a much more professional frown, glancing from the road to Sam for a moment. “So what exactly are we dealing with?”

Sam repositioned himself in the passengers seat, feeling a bit on the spot. He really wasn't really sure if this was something but he didn't want Dean to turn around and drive them back to the bunker. Back to boredom and Dean’s terrible attempts at cooking. “Could be angels.”

Dean rolled his eyes in his brother’s direction. “Yeah, and?”

“Well this Lake-”

“Outside Alamosa?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok a lake next to the driest city in Colorado, that is strange, but how is it angel strange?” Dean was trying to give his brother the benefit of the doubt but this was starting to sound like a flash flood.

Sam sighed, he knew this was thin, but it was all he had. “Yeah, well, seems like this lake appeared over night. People are calling it a miracle.”

Dean glanced sideways at his brother. “Magic lake in the desert. Since when are angels making happy little lakes for desert towns?” This wasn't thin this was freaking anorexic.

“Remember what Anna said about fallen grace?”

“Something about it being pure creation?” 

“Yeah, well making a lake in a desert-like climate, that seems like something angel's grace could do.”

He had to give Sam that, it could be possible. Could be. He could also be driving five hours to see some water in the desert. “Awesome.” Dean drawled sarcastically rolling his eyes.

***

Dean drove into a shitty motel outside Alamosa around four in the afternoon. He tossed the keys to the room to Sam as the sasquatch took a few things inside. As Dean turned to leave he noticed Ruby’s knife in his jacket, he pulled it out and handed it to Sam. “You should take this, just in case.” He turned back to the door to leave.

“Where are you going?”

Dean looked back at Sam one foot already out the door. “I’m going to check out that lake, and you," He pinned Sam with a glare. "Are going to stay here.”

“Oh no I’m not!” Sam looked affronted, there was no way he was letting Dean do this on his own. “What if it is grace and there are angels after it, you think I’m going to let you get yourself killed?”

Dean spread his arms in a futile gesture. “Not like we have an angel blade, better one of us checks it out discretely than the two of us getting killed.” 

Sam looked like he wanted to punch Dean again.

Dean rolled his eyes at his little brother. “Look, Sam, if it is grace, what are we going to do anyway? How do we contain the damn stuff?” He tilted his head down, trying to sound reasonable. “I’m not going to be reckless, I’ll just take a look and get out of there. If there are any angels or demons I will come right back.” Ok well that might have been a lie, he was itching for a fight, he needed a distraction. But he wasn’t going to risk his brother for his frustrations.

“Yeah... right.” Sam glared back at Dean. Clearly Sam didn’t believe Dean anymore than Dean believed himself.

“Right well, ‘scuse me, princess!” Dean bolted out the door and was rumbling away in the Impala before Sam could extricate himself from the gear he had in his arms.

“DEAN!” 

Oh no, he did not just ditch Sam. Sam clutched the demon killing dagger in his palm, images of violence clouding his vision. Yup, Sam was pissed. 

***

Dean might have felt bad about ditching Sammy at a hotel in the middle of nowhere, but he really just couldn’t deal with putting him in danger anymore. When did he become so goddamned protective? He knew Sam could hold his own. After everything they’ve been through he damn well knew Sam would be fine. Dean stared blearily out into the mesa, as the Impala rumbled beneath him, he was just so tired, tired of letting people down, losing everyone. Dad, Joe, Ellen, Cas, Cas again, Sam in the pit, Lisa & Ben, Cas going darkside, Bobby, Cas in purgatory, Benny, Cas...

“God dammit Cas where the hell are you.”

***

Dean found the lake about a 20 minute drive from the motel and as soon as he saw it he knew they were wasting their time. No demons or angels in sight. If it was something special, it'd be crawling with baddies.

Dean stepped out of the Impala, parking her a few yards from the waters edge. No one was here, there was no one to fight. There was just him, his baby and a large, surprisingly blue puddle in the middle of dry dusty plains in southern Colorado.

“Well this was useful.” He glared at the sad excuse for a lake like it had insulted him somehow.

He looked up at the sky, it was cloudless... still, it must have rained a few days ago, flash flood on such dry ground. Would have made sense if a little rain got stuck here for a few days. That was all this was, a little rain making a quarter-mile wide puddle and people call it a miracle... great. 

He ran a hand through his hair. Awesome. Here he was investigating the miracle puddle and Cas was probably out there somewhere, maybe hurt and Dean was too busy watching over his baby brother to go looking for him.

A shimmer in the lake caught his eye, drawing Dean out of his stupid frustrated thoughts. Was the lake... shimmering? And since when did Dean use the word... shimmer? He stepped forward. The lake was a deep, gut wrenching, blue. The sky was a warm gold, the sun setting far off in the west. That wasn’t natural... was it? The lake should reflect the sky... 

Before Dean could think what he was doing he was kneeling at the waters edge hand reaching out. Something was calling to him... someone was calling to something deep in his soul that he didn't quite understand. Something about this stupid looking puddle...

The last thing he felt was water that wasn't water on his fingertips, then the light consumed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you!  
> This is my first, so be gentle please. And do tell if you have any suggestions so I can incorporate them into later chapters/parts. 
> 
> I did mention there would be some very light Destiel, but for the super-duper shippers (like myself) I apologize as I've only put in as much as seems to appropriate to cannon. For people who aren't so fond of Destiel, don't leave... please! I'm doing my best to keep it cannon compliant.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading =3  
> You are all very lovely people (I can tell, that's a webcam over there isn't it? You should have made sure it was turned off).  
> It's so wonderful to be a part of this fandom with you.


	2. The Chapter Where Things get a Little Confusing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is lost, Sam is pissed, Cas is mopey, oh and there's a smidge of Abaddon.

“Nothing you could have done would have saved me because I didn’t want to be saved.”

***

When Dean opened his eyes he was on the floor in a... he sat up startled. “What the hell?” A coffee shop? A barista called out some froofy way too long order to a guy behind the counter foaming milk. People walked about to their tables, sitting, reading newspapers, tapping on laptops drinking their fru fru coffees. “Oh god, I’m back in hell.” No one seemed to notice the guy sitting on the floor staring at the customers like they were all creatures from the black lagoon. Dean stood up, brushing himself off, he needn’t have bothered though, he was immaculate. “Yup... hell.”

Then something caught his attention. 

“I do not understand that one, could you say it again April?”

Dean was still staring down at his disturbingly clean red leather jacket. He didn’t want to look up and see that he was just imagining that familiar deep gravelly voice. 

“It’s two shots of espresso in a medium cup with vanilla chai flavouring, use the blue box for the milk, Castiel.” The barista replied patiently to her counterpart.

Dean’s head shot up his eyes finding the man behind the coffee maker who was concentrating very hard on foaming milk. 

“Cas?” He didn’t react, clearly he had a lot going on trying to understand coffee orders. Dean grinned. Cas as a barista, that was a new one. He stepped up to the counter watching Cas the whole time as he pressed coffee into tiny little filter things and squirted flavouring into a cup.

He looked at the barista taking orders and flashed his most charismatic smile. “Hey there, April was it?” She just looked away from him to Cas. 

“You got that hon?” 

Castiel looked up at April “Yes, I believe I am fine, thank you.” he went back to his work.

Dean stared at him. The girl ignoring him, fine, but there was no way that Cas didn’t see him standing right in front of her. He could feel the anger boiling up inside him. For a month, a month! He had been worried about Cas, thought he was dead! And here he was making time with some, admittedly adorable, red-headed Barista. He spared a glance at the Barista, who was still looking fondly at Castiel, something in his stomach turned at that, but he ignored it, probably just revulsion for her taste in men. He stepped over to Cas, right next to the coffee machine. He lowered his voice, anger aside, he didn’t want to cause a scene, in a coffee shop of all places. “Cas, what the hell?”

Nothing.

Castiel continued to work as if there was no one glaring at him from barely few inches away. Dean looked around. No one was looking at him, no one had looked at him since he woke up on the floor. 

In a coffee shop.

Where the hell was he?

***

Two hours after Dean's departure Sam had had enough. Dean’s obsessively over-protective phase had gone far enough. He called Dean’s phone expecting and wanting to get in a fight. When no one picked up his malice vanished. Something was wrong, Dean wasn't overly reliable but should answer his phone when Sam called, unless he was with a chick... or passed out drunk, but these seemed unlikely possibilities at the moment. The likely possibility was that he had gotten himself into trouble, just like Sam had warned him he would. He gathered his things in their little green duffle and stepped outside to hotwire a car and find Dean and the lake.

***

Dean stood on asphalt outside the coffee shop as he watched Cas and April close up shop, he was starting to get very uncomfortable with this. He felt like a stalker watching Cas and April exchange tender words and expressions as they parted for the evening. He sauntered up next to Cas as he walked down the dark street in the opposite direction of the girl. “So April, huh? She’s cute, you should definitely hit that.”

Cas simply continued walking appearing lost in his thoughts. 

“So I’m invisible and no one can hear me. Awesome.” Dean sighed looking down at Cas. “Stupid puddle. Stupid Sammy and his stupid theory about a stupid magic puddle. I mean, what the hell?” Dean was growing more and more frustrated, he’d somehow found Cas but he couldn’t talk to him and he was stuck in some terrible out of phase episode of a tv show that was running out of ideas.

“Hello handsome!” A chipper but dangerous voice piped up from in front of them. He hadn't noticed the figure in the darkness until it was too late. 

Dean’s stomach clenched as recognition altered his features into a scowl. “Abaddon!” He stared at her. How the hell...

But she was staring right back at him, at Dean. She could see him. And somehow that was reassuring but also, really not.

“Who are you?” Castiel asked tilting his head as he examined the strange woman.

Dean and Abaddon both looked at Castiel, then back at each other. Then Abaddon smiled. “He can’t see you.” She purred.

Castiel turned to look in the direction of her gaze and took a step back from Dean, for a moment Dean thought maybe Cas could see him. But when he looked at Cas’s eyes he saw him glancing around the spot where Dean was but not ever landing on Dean, himself. 

“See who?”

“Why,” she stared at Dean the whole time. “The angel perched on your shoulder of course.”

***

Sam found the Impala parked next to a muddy patch of brush and drying dirt. If there had been a lake here it was gone now. 

“DEAN?!” He called out into the darkness. But his brother wasn’t here. Just the impala and... Dean’s phone lying on the ground next to where it looked like there had been water only a few hours ago. 

“DEAN!”

Sam listened for something, anything. Where would Dean go? He couldn’t have wandered off into the mesa in the middle of the night and he wouldn’t have left his car. 

“Sam Winchester, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” 

Sam spun to see a very small mocha-skinned woman standing behind him. He pulled the demon knife out, ready for a fight. “Who are you?” His voice came out more growl than words.

“I am known as Amalthia, it’s a pleasure to meet the vessel of an Archangel.” 

Sam snorted. “Where’s my brother?”

Amalthia tilted her head, not understanding the human’s lack of proper manners. “I do not know. I have not seen Dean Winchester.” She paused. “Please put down the knife, I mean you no harm.”

Sam didn’t move. “Right.”

She shrugged. “It will do you no good against an Angel of the Lord anyway.” Ignoring Sam she walked to the edge of the mud puddle and knelt down reaching her hands out over it, closing her eyes. Concentrating.

Sam stood up straight, letting his knife arm fall to his side, watching her. “What are you doing?”

“There was grace here.” She stated simply, standing and straightening her vessel’s back in a way that looked somewhat unnatural for the tiny fragile looking raven-haired woman. “But it’s gone now.” Sam would have thought there was sadness in her voice, if angels could feel emotions. 

Sam watched her cautiously. “Where did it go?” 

Amalthia tipped her head tapping her chin with an index finger, still standing unnaturally straight. “I don’t know.” She seemed to come to a conclusion and walked confidently towards Sam. 

Sam took a step back instinctually. Amalthia had picked a very small, thin woman as her vessel, and yet, she virtually hummed with power and grace. To his surprise the little angel held out her hand with a tiny bottle in it. “You may need this if you find the grace.”

Sam felt apprehensive as he reached out and took the bottle from her hand. “What is it?” There was something just wrong about an Angel that wasn’t Cas acting kind.

“It can contain an angel’s grace.” She tilted her head again, thoughtfully. “Although, I’m not sure it will do you much good. I believe the grace must have found it’s way back to it’s fallen angel.”

***

“An angel?” Castiel stepped back further from the presence he couldn’t see. “Who are you, show yourself!” He commanded retrieving his angel blade from the messy dust jacket that hung loosely over his barista outfit.

“Oh hon, I don’t think he can.” The demon approached the space where an angel was supposedly hiding and waved her hand through the air. “Seems he’s not really in this plane, but not really in another either.” She turned her head and smiled pleasantly at Castiel. “I suppose that means I have you all to myself. And to think-” She glanced back to the space where the angel must have been. “-I couldn’t have found him if it wasn’t for you flinging your essence across the sky directly to him.”

Castiel glared at the demon. “Tut tut, language.” She said to the nothingness. “That is not how you speak to a lady.” Castiel half smiled at that, whoever this angel was he was clearly giving the demon some choice words. The demon turned her attention back to Castiel.

“It wouldn’t be wise to attack me.” He gestured towards her with the angel blade. 

“Oh darling, I don’t think you know who you’re facing.” 

The angel blade clattered to the floor. All Castiel could see was the demon’s face smirking at him. She held his sword hand in one hand and his neck in the other. Spots were appearing at the edge of his vision. Castiel suddenly realized he couldn’t breathe. As an angel that wouldn’t mean anything but since he was human now he was helpless, he couldn’t fight her strength and he couldn’t breathe. Is this what dying feels like? He thought helplessly as his vision began to blur.

“CAS! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! SMITE HER!” Dean screamed at the little fallen angel. How could this be happening, what was wrong with him, it looked like he was... suffocating?

Oh god.

Cas was human, Cas was human and Dean couldn’t do anything to help. That’s why he hadn’t answered his prayers, that’s why he was holed up in some coffee shop trying to make some money as a stupid barista. He was trying to be human. Trying to survive. 

And now he was dying.

And Dean was useless, useless and far away even though he was right here. He’d seen Abaddon’s hand move through his body as if he wasn’t there at all, he couldn’t touch her. Anger flared in his gut, like a fire rising in his very being. He’d be damned if he was going to just stand here and watch another friend die. 

He reached out for Abaddon, willing himself to be solid enough to grab her, to do something, anything. 

He hadn’t expected the light. It was bright, so bright and all consuming, but he could still see. He watched as Abaddon screamed, as she burned in her borrowed skin and fell over Castiel onto the ground.

Castiel closed his eyes against the light, it was too much, too bright. How could this have happened to him? When Angel light was too much for his pathetic human eyes. He fell back, a large weight dropping over him. He realised from the smell of searing flesh that it was the demon, she’d fallen on top of him as she burned. He heaved her surprisingly heavy frame off of him and looked around. He appreciated that one of his brothers was watching out for him, but who? Who would save him? He was... he was nothing. Not anymore. He wished his brother would at least appear to him, at least explain. But he deserved no explanation. He didn’t even deserve to be saved. “You should have let the demon kill me.” He said to no one. He waited, but nothing happened. He half expected his brother to have only saved him so that he could smite Castiel himself. And still, nothing happened. He heaved himself up with a sigh, picking up the angel blade. Then continued on his way home. 

Dean stared at Castiel as he walked away. “You still have a death wish?!” Dean jogged up to Cas’ side. “What the hell Cas?” He reached out to grab the shorter man, but his hands moved through air like he was still not really there. “Goddammit!” Dean glared at Cas. “You stupid, STUPID ANGEL-” Dean corrected himself “-human... Jesus Cas. Just stop trying to get yourself killed.” Dean was silent for a moment, letting his rage burn out. “And call Sam, we’re worried about you.” To Dean’s surprise Cas pulled out a cellphone from his pocket. They stopped there on the sidewalk. Dean watched as Cas stared at the phone, lingering on a number. Dean angled himself around Cas’ shoulder so he could see the name. 

‘Dean’ 

Dean rummaged in his pockets for his phone, but nothing was there. “Dammit.”

Castiel sighed. He shouldn’t call Dean, he would only berate Cas for not contacting him sooner and he would be putting Dean and Sam in danger if the angels were searching for him. He looked around somberly. If a demon had found him and one of his brothers was watching him... but... he just wanted to hear Dean’s voice. He hadn’t expected the sorrow that thought brought him. Emotions were strange, he never really expected them when they hit.

“What the hell are you doing? Don’t be a girl about it, call if you’re gonna call.” Dean rolled his eyes at Cas’ sighing and tearing up spectacle. “I mean, really. How hard is it to just call me?” Dean watched as Cas hit dial while putting the phone to his ear and after all that whining he really hoped Sammy had picked up his phone wherever he’d dropped it.

***

The melodic sounds of a guitar solo caught Sam’s attention as he drove the Impala in no direction in particular through Colorado. He grabbed the phone from the passenger’s seat and flipped it open. “Hello?”

A gravelly sound on the other end responded. “Sam?”

“Cas?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then. “I thought this was Dean’s number?”

“Yeah, uh, Dean’s not here right now.” The brothers hadn’t spoken to Cas in a month, he didn’t want the first communication with the Angel to be ‘Oh yeah, Dean’s probably gotten himself kidnapped by some angels because he thought it’d be fun to run off and investigate some fallen grace without me.’ Nope. Nope. Much better to lie to a messenger of God.

“Oh.” 

And... silence. Good to know Cas’ conversation skills were as stellar as ever. “So I’m in Colorado, uh... somewhere outside of Alamosa, do you think you can find me?”

A long pause and then “I am no longer an Angel of the Lord.”

“Oh.” So Cas was out of juice, ok. “Where are you?” 

“Mission, Kansas.” 

“Mission... that’s not all that far, I could probably get there...” But what about Dean... he could still be here somewhere... Sam could look tonight and if he can’t find Dean, he could get Cas tomorrow and they’ll both look. A solid plan. “Sometime tomorrow?”

“You said, ‘I’. Where is Dean?” 

Of course the Cas would be distracted by the lack of Dean. “He’s...” Sam sighed, guess you can’t just lie to a messenger of God. “Missing.” Sam finished, uncomfortably.

“Missing?”

“Yeah.”

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, that’s why he’s missing.” Sam rolled his eyes, though he knew Cas couldn’t see it, he hoped he knew what gesture Sam was making anyway. “I’m looking for him now, if I can’t find him by morning, I’ll come get you and we’ll talk about this. You might be able to help, honestly, I’m not sure where to start.”

“What happened?”

“Look Cas, I don’t have time to play twenty-questions with you, just get some sleep and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

***

Dean waited outside the ramshackle apartment building that Cas had spent the last month residing in. Honestly, he wanted to see the apartment Cas had been living in but he couldn’t seem to cross the barrier of the building’s doors. He suspected it had something to do with the anti-angel sigils Dean could see along the outside of the building that Cas must have carved onto the walls. Maybe Abaddon wasn’t full of shit when she said he was an angel and with everything that had happened over the past day Dean was starting to think that he was in a lot more trouble than just being 'out of phase'.

Dean heard the tell-tale rumblings of his baby and turned to see Sam pulling up in front of the building. “Oh baby, I missed you.” He said walking up to the car and running a loving hand over her hood. He was happy to note that the car seemed pretty solid under his hand, he always wondered how when people were out of phase on TV some things stayed solid while anything useful was untouchable. Just his luck, he guessed. He couldn’t pick up objects and throw them to get attention, but at least he didn’t fall through the ground. At least Abaddon had been solid enough to burn her soul to cinders when he needed to.

Yeah and about that... how had he done that? He seemed to have some angel mojo, that was freaking phenomenal. At least he could fight. Or at least he hoped he could fight.

He perked up at the sound of a door creaking open behind him. Cas appeared out of the apartment building. Dean relaxed at the sight of him. He was a little worse for wear, looked like he’d barely slept last night, he was ruffled and his strange assortment of shirts and jackets all looked pretty worn in over his torn jeans. But he was alive and he would be with Sammy now. Sammy would keep him safe. He looked over at his brother in the drivers seat smiling fondly at him. The smile drooped when he noted the bags under his brothers eyes and the twitchy edgy way he was clenching and unclenching his fingers over the wheel. Sam had probably been looking for him all night.

“Hello Sam.” Castiel greeted peering through the passenger side window.

“Hey Cas, hop in.” Sam said in a clipped tone. He sounded like he was trying to be friendly, but clearly he was still on edge.

Castiel opened the door and slipped into the passenger’s seat, dropping a small duffel at his feet. “You did not find Dean.”

“No.”

“Are you going to elaborate on the situation?”

“Uh... yeah.” Sam looked at Cas, unable to keep the worry from showing on his face.

Dean was still standing outside the car as Sam updated Cas on the situation. He was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable... he needed to get in the Impala... but she was solid under his hands. They would drive away soon and he didn’t know how he was going to follow them. He needed to ‘pop’ into there somehow. Cas made it look so easy, just wooshing all over the place. 

Dean rolled his eyes at himself, this was so dumb. He had the angel mojo but he couldn’t control it. He must have popped in to where Cas was in the coffee shop, so he should be able to do this, it was only a few feet away. “Nut up Winchester, you can do this.” He closed his eyes and willed himself into the backseat of his baby. When he opened them again he was watching Sam and Cas from the back seat. “Right well that wasn’t so bad! Now-” He closed his eyes and willed himself to be visible. When he opened them again he saw Sam leaning back looking at him... no wait... not at, through. Dean sighed. Sam was backing out of the place he’d parked. Well at least Dean was in the car. This was something, not much, but definitely something.

***

What Dean had sussed out from the little conversation during the drive was that Sam and Cas had no idea where Dean was. They believed the angels had got him, apparently the grace getting him was not even a possibility worth mentioning, and Sam had met some hot angel chick named Amaleur... Ammaterasu... Anuksunamoon? Something... who Cas didn’t want to talk about. Dean suspected Cas was kind of afraid of her. The whole “do not converse with that one” or however Cas had said it, thing. 

The main thing he learned was that without him around Cas and Sam just seemed so goddamned awkward. The only time they were on the same wavelength was when they were worrying about Dean, and while somewhere deep, deeeeeep down in the cockles of his heart Dean appreciated their concern, mainly he was just annoyed at how boring it was sitting in the back seat waiting for Sammy to drive somewhere at the incredible speed of 10 miles per hour under the speed limit. He would have to take them out drinking sometime. Nothing bonds brothers and friends like a good ol’ bar fight.

Finally, they reached their destination. The goddamned bunker. Didn’t they just get away from here? What the hell were they doing back? 

Sam and Cas stepped out of the Impala. Dean just popped into existence behind them, he was kind of liking the angel mojo now that he had at least some control over it. He was getting ready to follow them in when Cas stepped up to the wall of the bunker and started inscribing something on the wall. 

“Oh come on!” Dean yelled as he felt himself being denied entry into the closest thing he had to a home. 

To Sam’s curious look, Castiel explained. “Angel protection sigils. Angels will not be able to enter. Hopefully this will keep you safe.” 

Castiel done with his anti-Dean mojo, stood and brushed the dust off of his hands. The two of them entered the bunker leaving Dean behind.

“I'll just wait here then.” Dean called after them


	3. The Chapter Where Dean is Awesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's really getting tired of people not being able to see him, Sam and Cas are bonding and shit hits the fan.

“It wasn't that I was weak, I was stronger than you.”

***

Dean didn’t know what they were doing in there over the past two days, but he sure was hoping that it would help them make him visible again. Whatever was happening, it seemed he was a prime target for the angels now. 

Every few hours an angel or two, sometimes, when he was very unlucky, three would show up at the doorstep of the bunker. The first time this happened he was surprised to find a dark haired woman looking at him. At him, not through him. He flashed her a charming smile and greeted her with a cheesy pick up line, it’s possible it had to do with falling from heaven. She proceeded to try and cut clean through his throat with an angel blade, which honestly, he could not blame her for, that pick up line was terrible. Luckily Dean had gotten quite good with his Nightcrawler bamfing and popped behind her as she lunged. It also seemed being an Angel of the Lord granted you the power to summon angel blades from space because it seemed now that he needed one, one was ready in his hand. So he thrust it through the back of her head. He was sad to see a beautiful woman die, but she had tried to kill him. He supposed he wouldn’t lose any sleep over it, what with him not needing to sleep anymore.

More and more angels popped in on him, all with an equal desire to kill him and just as much explanation as the first. Dean really hoped Sam and Cas would come out soon, the front lawn was starting to get a bit messy with bodies and burnt wings in the ground.

***

“So you think this is it?” Sam said looking at several stories on his computer screen and a map. The map pointed to a rundown house out in Minnesota that appeared to be at the center of a number of questionable miracles listed in the news stories. 

“Yes. If the angels are congregating under a leader, that angel must be powerful enough to cause the disturbances mentioned in the area.” Castiel stood over Sam’s shoulder examining the information on the screen. “If anyone knows what happened to Dean and the grace, an angel with that kind of power will have the information we require.”

Sam chuckled to himself. “The information we require... Cas, you’re human now, you really need to learn to start talking like a normal person.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and Sam grinned, he knew he’d learned that habit from Dean. 

“Got everything?” Sam asked looking over at Cas who was zipping up his small duffel.

“Yes, we must go quickly. We have been delayed long enough.”

Sam grabbed his laptop, Ruby’s knife and the keys to the Impala. “Don’t suppose you have a few spare angel blades, Cas?” 

Cas held up his little blade. “I am afraid there is only the one.” He tucked it away into his second layer of jackets. Sam found it almost a little endearing that Cas had taken to Dean's taste in clothing, albeit his jackets were far too big for him and it just made him look a little... frumpy. While he was now wearing different clothes he still managed to look like the same little angel in a tan jacket.

“I guess we’ll have to make due.” 

Sam and Cas walked to the door. As Sam opened it but paused when he saw Cas flinch back suddenly. “What? What’s-” then he saw what was waiting outside the door. Dozens of dead Angels littered the ground in front of the bunker. “How the hell-”

Sam stepped out into the yard staring at all of the bodies, there had to be thirty or forty of them. Thirty or forty dead angels just lying there on the ground. “Cas?” 

The dark haired man looked terrified at the sight. He was still standing in the doorway refusing to move. 

“Cas!”

Castiel pulled his gaze away from the carnage and managed to look over at Sam.

“What could have done this?” Sam asked. “Could this have something to do with those sigils you drew?”

Castiel gathered himself and walked towards Sam out of the safety of the bunker. “No.” He shook his head worriedly. “This could be the work of another angel, a very powerful one.”

“Like the one we’re looking for?”

“Perhaps.”

“But why?”

Castiel looked around. “Show yourself!” He commanded. But his words again went unheeded. 

“What are you-” Sam looked around in confusion for who Cas was calling to.

“There was a demon that came after me in Mission, just before I called you.” Castiel explained. “It said there was an angel watching over me, but it appears he’d prefer to stay invisible.” There was a hint of anger in his voice when he said that. Dean really didn’t appreciate that. It’s not like he was invisible on purpose. And, really, Cas didn’t need to look so... so upset about the dead angels, they were trying to kill him. No one shed a tear when he killed demons.

Dean watched as the two shuffled into the impala. He popped into the back seat. “So where are we going now?” It was actually kind of embarrassing how happy he was to be back on an adventure, with super cautious driver Sam and his partner, boring McTalks-Not-Much. But he was bored, and a bit tired from smiting angels of the lord. At least they hadn’t thought to anti-angel his baby, that would have been heartbreaking.

***

 

When they finally arrived at a run down shack in the middle of nowhere, Dean was relieved, there was no way he was going to put up with another ride in the Impala with Sam and Cas. Apparently they had decided not to talk at all this time. Supposing, Dean gathered, that there might be an angel sitting moodily in the back seat watching their every move. Well, at least they were being cautious, he still wanted to know what they were doing out here though.

He didn’t wonder for long, when the question crossed his mind he felt something else... a strange warm feeling rushed through him, he recognized it from when the angels had appeared and tried to kill him. There was angelic power here, all around them and something else too. A shiver ran down his spine, demons. “What the hell?”

The shack was old, the door creaked as Sam picked the lock and shuffled in, Castiel close behind holding the green duffel with extra weapons and supplies. Sam was carrying a shotgun loaded with salt and Ruby’s knife, all Cas had at the ready was his angel blade. Dean was getting rather concerned for them, they were woefully unprepared if they expected to be going up against angels. At least Dean was here, he could down those dicks no problem. Dean clenched his fists around the hilts of his angel blades, he’d conjured a second one just in case this got out of hand. The weight was comfortable and felt oddly natural. 

He could feel the auras of demons and angels all around them, keeping their distance for now, as if, they were waiting for something. Dean began circling the empty one room shack, apprehension nagging in his head. “Guys, this is a really bad idea.” He grumbled turning towards Sam, “I really wish you could...” Sam’s arm was dripping red blood onto the dusty floor, a sigil hastily drawn in front of him. Dean panicked. “NO, SAM DON’T-” Sam slapped his hand into the center and a bright flash of light consumed Dean... again.

***

Blue... so much blue, dark blue. Wet and salt consumed his senses. The feel of sand digging into his toes. Something wet was threatening to drag him down, then it lifted him up again.. He blinked up at the darkening sky. How long had be been here? It was midafternoon when he was last... what... where? Dean jolted upright. “Sam!” He had found his feet under him and was running away from the ocean water before he noticed the palm trees and has the presence of mind to wonder where he was and how far he was from Sam. Suddenly a flood of memory hit him, the past three days, becoming an angel. He didn’t need to run. Dean closed his eyes and focused very hard on the tiny little shack somewhere in Michigan that he’d been in earlier. He really hoped that was enough information for the Nightcrawler powers to do their thing.

It was.

“SON OF A BIIIT-” Dean smashed into the ground with a loud thud. Seemed his angel mojo was still a bit... malfunctional. Teleporting him to the cabin, which, honesty was more than he’d been hoping for, but about 6 feet in the air. “Ugh...” He groaned a he pulled his head up to get a better look at the chaos around him. Demons and angels were fighting each other, the demons at a bit of a disadvantage as there didn’t seem to be enough angel blades to go around, what the hell were they thinking? Perhaps they intended to overpower them with sheer numbers. But in the corner of the room not far from the used up angel banishing sigil was a familiar mop of brown hair, behind the shaggy cut a set of hazel-blue eyes were staring in his direction... no, not in his direction... at him, at Dean.

“DEAN?!”

“Sammy!” Dean’s face broke into a wide lopsided grin. Sammy saw him! SAMMY COULD SEE HIM! Oh thank god. No more awkward sitting in the back seat of the Impala.

So really it wasn’t his fault that he was so busy staring at his brother that he almost didn’t hear the warning Sammy was shouting. Dean turned around just in time to see the knife go right through his heart. 

“Oh.”

The demon grinned up at the elder Winchester. “Dean Winchester, didn’t think-” he twisted the knife in Dean’s chest punctuating his words “killing you would be so-”

Dean punched the demon in the face. ”What, easy?”

The demon recoiled clinging to a broken jaw. 

“You know, the reason people think I’m hard to kill...” Dean leaned into the demon’s space, flashing a dangerous smile. “It’s because I am.” Dean grabbed the demon by the forehead smiting the creature on the spot. It fell to the floor as the smell of burning flesh assaulted Dean’s nostrils. Dean glanced down and saw the knife still buried to the hilt between his ribs. “Ok that’s just gross.” it seemed talking to himself out loud was a habit that was going to take a while to get rid of. Gingerly, he pulled the knife from his chest, he’d expected it to hurt, but... nothing. A part of him was forcefully reminded of his first meeting with Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Well at least he knew he hadn’t hurt the little guy, not that that had ever bothered him... nope. Not at all.

Dean turned to see Sam standing two feet away staring at him, a look of horror on his face. He hadn’t really thought what Sam’s reaction would be to the angel mojo. Dean plastered a confident grin on his face trying to deflect his baby brother’s accusing look. “Hey! Sammy-” But anything Dean was going to say was cut off by the sound of a blood curdling all too familiar sounding voice screaming. Dean’s head whipped around in the direction of the door. He had never heard Cas sound like that, never imagined his friend could even feel that kind of pain. Restraining himself as much as he was capable, Dean slammed an angel blade into Sam's left hand, giving him a 'go get 'em tiger' nod, then, Dean was outside. 

Outside was much less hectic, all he saw was... two angels standing by the wall of the shack. One angel holding a limp Cas up by the collar of his tan jacket. Cas hung from the angel’s hand, his eyes staring blankly. A terror gripped Dean, a familiar and horrible terror and... he was an angel now, this was not going to happen. Dean didn’t walk towards the angels holding Cas, he was simply there and there were simply angel blades in both of his hands and those hands just happened to have thrust both blades into the two angels faces. The whole thing happened before the angels even knew he was there. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Dean Winchester with angel mojo.

Dean caught Cas gently as the small man fell from the dead angel’s hand. He popped them a short distance from the dead angels, Dean remembered the look on Cas’ face when he’d seen all the dead angels outside the bunker, he didn’t need to see these too. 

With the utmost care he leaned Cas’ back against the shack’s outside wall careful not to shift the angel blade poking out from his abdomen. Dean’s breath caught in his throat, that looked... bad... really... really... bad. He closed his eyes drawing a steadying breath. Opening his eyes again he placed his left hand on Cas’ shoulder squeezing tightly willing Cas not to feel any pain. With his right he gently grasped the handle of the angel blade and pulled.

***

He was dying... he was dying again and seeing things. 

Nothing had really gone to plan today. The dead angels outside the bunker, clearly something was following them and Castiel was not going to believe that it was trying to help them, nothing ever wanted to help them. So when they got to the cabin and saw that it was empty, whatever they'd been searching for already long gone, Castiel gave Sam the signal they’d agreed upon to cast the banishing sigil. A bright light had flared in the center of the room between Sam and Castiel and that’s when the demons attacked. They killed a few, but they kept coming, it seemed they were after whatever power was in this place. Then their time was up, angels started appearing. Some going after demons others intent upon killing Castiel, Sam had tried to help, but they’d gotten separated and Castiel eventually found himself outside fighting for his life.

And now he was dying. 

He tried to blink the foggyness out of his eyes. He felt a numbness flowing through his body, this must be what it feels like to die as a human. It wasn’t a terribly uncomfortable feeling, the warmth in his right shoulder was actually quite nice. A weak moan escaped his mouth, his eyes closed as his head lolled to the right leaning into whatever was making him feel warm and safe. There was something else though, he was beginning to feel stronger if only a little. He struggled to open his eyes and his heart lurched in his chest as he recognised hazel-green eyes staring intently at his face. “D-Dean?” He was feeling stronger but his voice betrayed his human body's weakness.

“Shh... just relax Cas, k?” Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. “You’re gonna be fine.” Dean felt bad for using his angel juice to make Cas numb, he justified it to himself that Cas wasn’t used to pain and he needed it, but Dean knew that if it’d been him he would have hated it. Still, it was much easier to heal the man with him pliant and oblivious.

Castiel stared at Dean... something was wrong. Castiel was recovering from a wound that should have been fatal, recovering, not dying. He concentrated on what was happening in his body. Something... something was healing him something was flowing into him from his right shoulder where Dean’s hand was holding him tight. Dean... his friend... Dean who had fought every step of the way against his fate to let Michael in. Dean who had refused Michael even when the only other choice was to forfeit his and Sam’s lives. 

“No...” he protested weakly, struggling against the stranger’s strong hand holding him down. 

Dean, his Dean... had given his body to an angel.

Dean was lost. 

“No...” He moaned again, stronger this time. It hurt to fight, but he would not let this thing heal him. He couldn’t allow it.

“Cas, stop fidgeting. You’re wounds are really bad and...” 

Dean’s head tilted a little to his left, eyes searching Castiel's face. Castiel was confused at the expression the angel was making. Was that concern? Who was this? Why would an angel be trying to help him, to heal him and how had it convinced Dean to give himself to it? 

The healing itself was odd. Normally an angel’s healing was invasive and confident, taking control away from the body and healing in an instant but this felt, tentative, gentle, almost naive. Like the angel was unsure of what he was doing.

Castiel noticed the look of deep concentration on the face that should belong to Dean. Brows firmly knitted together, his gaze not moving from Castiel’s. Holding Castiel in place with his eyes alone. Castiel reached out with his left hand and took Dean’s shoulder closing the distance between them, staring hard into those familiar hazel-green eyes, trying desperately to see the angel behind them, the angel between Castiel and his hunter. 

Castiel let rage strengthen his voice as he glared at the creature mere inches away from him. “Who are you?” His eyes darted from one hazel-green eye to the other, he needed to know the truth. He needed to know that Dean could come back to him. He just needed... Dean. 

That’s when Sam slammed the shack door open so hard it fell off his hinges. “What the hell is going on?!” He yelled staring at Dean and Castiel.

Dean swallowed, pulling away from Cas. The wound in his abdomen was closed, Cas was out of danger... but those words rung in his ears ‘Who are you?’ the venom behind that. He stood and tried to offer a hand to Cas, but he would't take it. Cas picked up the angel blade that had just been in his gut and stood in front of Dean, adopting that strange shoulder puffing pose he had when he was trying to look intimidating. Sam marched over and stood by Castiel’s side. Dean had to admit with all the creatures Dean had left Sam with he was surprised that Sam looked unharmed, aside from the annoyed and pained expression on his face. 

With everything that had happened the last month, Sam almost dying, Cas missing, a giant puddle turning him into something inhuman, being unseen, unheard, being stuck outside the bunker for two days, killing 30 something angels, almost losing Cas twice. Dean just couldn’t help himself, he started laughing. 

God, he was just so happy. Sam and Cas could see him, they didn’t believe it was him, but Dean was sure he’d find a way to fix that. 

Dean was breathless, despite the fact that he really didn’t need to breathe anymore, god it had been years since he laughed like this. Since that time he and Cas had been kicked out of a brothel. 

Dean wiped tears out of his eyes, looking up at the two of them from leaning over his knees. “You should see your faces!”

The sasquatch and the former angel exchanged a look, still all anger and suspicion. Dean could see Cas tightening his grip on his own angel blade. 

“Who are you?!” It was more commanding this time, Castiel was losing his patience.

Dean straightened up holding his arms out in a surrendering gesture. “Ok, ok. Haaa... but seriously, you guys look hilarious.” Dean couldn’t stop the grin of pure joy on his face, he supposed it was more suspicious, him smiling like an idiot, but damn, he’d really missed them. He turned his gaze upward to meet Sam’s eyes. “You remember that puddle in Alamosa?” 

Sam’s eyes narrowed but he nodded curtly.

“Turns out, while I hate to admit it, you were right, the damn thing was made of angel’s grace.” Dean shrugged. “I made the mistake of touching it, and bam! Instant angel.”

They didn’t look convinced... something about Castiel flexing his fingers around his angel blade tipped Dean off. 

“That is not possible. Angel’s grace would not simply merge with a human.” Castiel glared harder, if that was even possible. “Try again and this time, do not lie.” 

Dean sighed. “Look I can only tell you what I know, and what I know is that one second I was touching the water in that lake, the next I was waking up in that god awful coffee shop you were working in and no one could see me.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, he was piecing things together. “You were the one that smote the demon when I was walking home that night?”

“Yeah.” He grinned at Sam “That was Abaddon by the way, we don’t need to worry about that bitch anymore.”

“Why did you not show yourself?”

“I couldn’t, I tried, really... but... I can’t really control most of this.” It scared him to be honest, but he wasn’t going to say that to Sam and Cas, they didn’t need to hear that pussy shit. “I was here, the whole time trying. Until you zapped me away with that sigil. Thanks for locking me out of the bunker by the way, I was standing out there for two days with angels appearing from nowhere trying to kill me!” God he needed to lie down, he was exhausted. He hadn’t had a break since this all started. Healing Cas had taken much more out of him than he'd expected. He really hoped they believed him now, because he wasn’t sure he had the energy to keep arguing with them.

Sam spoke up finally. “I think he may be telling the truth Cas.” 

“Thank you.” Dean said ungraciously.

“Shut up.” Sam replied. “Is there any way what he said about the grace could be true?”

Castiel tilted his head thoughtfully staring into the middle distance. “The only way grace would take a host is if there is some connection between the grace and it’s host.” He turned his blue eyes back to Dean. “Whose grace is that?”

“Hell if I know.” Dean shrugged. “Do you know an angel whose grace would be keen on making a big puddle in the desert?”

“Could it be yours, Cas?”

Dean and Castiel both glared at Sam. 

“What?” Sam looked at Cas. “You said there had to be some connection between the grace and Dean, and you pulled him out of hell.” 

Cas’ head adopted it’s signature tilt again as he considered this. “My grace was used by Metatron for a spell, it is likely that it would have been destroyed.” Castiel looked at Dean, considering. “If it did survive... however... it probably would have taken Dean as a host if it came in contact with him.”

Dean felt violated, “What the hell, Cas? Why would your grace latch on to me?”

“Because there was a part of it in you already.” Cas replied matter-of-factly.

Now Dean felt very uncomfortable. “What?”

“When I raised you from perdition.” Castiel stared at the man, this infuriating ignorance, really, it could only belong to Dean Winchester. “Your soul was broken, I used my grace to suture it back together.”

Dean looked down putting a hand to his chest like he was feeling for his soul. “Angels stitches... uh... huh...” He looked from Cas to Sammy tentatively. “So we cool then?”

Sam and Castiel exchanged a look. 

“Well it is possible.” Sam offered. 

“We will take it under consideration.” Cas provided.

Dean wanted to roll his eyes but something was nagging at the back of his mind. His body felt heavy, heavier than it had ever felt and that exhaustion was really trying to get it’s claws into him. “Alright, can we just... get out of here?” 

Together, the three of them headed for the impala. 

“Sammy. Keys!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for part 1.
> 
> Part 2 preview: Dean uses his powers for awesome, Cas is resentful, Sam becomes more than a little annoyed at the both of them and they all decide that de-juicing Dean is the only thing that will keep them all sane... well, maybe only most of them.
> 
> Thanks for reading =D


	4. The Chapter Where They all go Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is a dick and the boys finally get back to doing what they do... sometimes very terribly, hunting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I had initially intended this to be a two part work, but writing the second part I realized that it made more sense all together. Mainly because the meat of the story was all in part two and so far it's turning out to be much longer. ^.^;;
> 
> Also, it gets dark starting in the next chapter... so, you know, if you're squeamish... =D

“I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

***

So it turned out that their theory about the magic puddle being Cas’ grace was accurate. In order to allow, a newly angel’d up Dean entry into the bunker, but still keep out the other angels, Cas inscribed an exception in Enochian onto the wall, this required using the grace’s true name. When Castiel cast the sigil with his own name, Dean found he could easily walk over the barrier. 

Castiel didn’t have an answer for why the grace had teleported Dean to Castiel or why Dean had been invisible for three days. He did seem to think that the banishing sigil had “reset his angel mojo to factory settings.” Dean helpfully provided.

If Sam thought Dean was insufferable before... it was nothing compared to how annoying he was with angel powers. When the water turned off while same was covered in shampoo in the shower and the soap and conditioner had mysteriously replaced itself with ketchup and mayonnaise Sam had had enough.

Storming out of the shower dressed in sweatpants hair matted with soap Sam Winchester declared to no one in particular that they were going on a hunt.

Sam was unsurprised when Dean appeared barely a few inches from his face looking livid. Dean really needed a reminder about personal space.

“No.”

“Look we’re all bored and you need a proper outlet for your angel superpowers that doesn’t involve treating me like a piece of meat that requires seasoning.” Sam replied.

Dean rolled his eyes. “No we don’t, you still need time to recover from the trials and the way my angel crap crapped out on Cas he needs rest too.”

Castiel glanced up from reading on the couch to look back at the brothers. He’d thought he’d done a good job covering up that the wound, now rather minor, in his abdomen was still paining him. 

Dean looked a bit troubled and bit on his lip self consciously. “And, I mean, I’m not really sure how much control I have over all of this, what if I get stuck invisible again or I can’t heal one of you and you get injured.”

Sam sighed. “We were hunters long before you had superpowers, we can manage.”

Now Dean just looked angry. “Cas isn’t a hunter, he’s not used to being human. We just got out of danger, and with angels hunting me and Cas...” He looked over at the man at the couch seeming to only realize just now that he was there. “We are not going out there.”

“Dean.” Sam pleaded.

“No.” and with that Dean was gone with an accompanying flutter that really did not suit the grumpy hunter.

Sam turned to Cas. “You ok with going out on a hunt?”

The former angel, now human nodded. “It will be good for Dean to... get back in the saddle.” The last was said with a note of a question to it.

Sam smiled and inclined his head in confirmation of the unasked question, Dean may not be good at adjusting to his new situation, but Cas was becoming more human every day.

***

Dean wasn’t really sure how they’d convinced him this was a good idea, but here they were playing feds again. He had to admit though, being an angel made everything almost too easy. He just needed to ask a few leading questions and found he could read the thoughts of the witnesses and get to the truth much easier than pussyfooting around the issue trying not to sound like a wierdo. Uncooperative people simply required a hand on the shoulder and a little angelic peace and they became compliant and easygoing. It made Dean feel awkward when Cas glared at him each time he used his powers in such a way but it yielded results and really, Dean wasn’t actually an angel, so he didn’t give a rats ass about the rules. 

Dean and Cas walked away from a witness’ house, she had seen what she clearly visualized as what Dean knew to be a werewolf. He had thanked her for her time after only mentioning the incident to her and she was staring after them a look of confusion on her face.

“You cannot just read people’s minds when you require information.” 

Dean rolled his eyes at the stern looking shorter man next to him. “Yeah well now we know it’s a werewolf, where and when will strike, and it’s barely even noon.” Dean placed his phone to his ear with it already ringing Sam.

Next to him, Castiel just glared.

***

Dean was feeling slightly responsible for the mess they’d gotten themselves into... but really, it usually turned out much worse than this. It wasn’t one werewolf they were up against, it was a pack. Seven of them and they had the brothers and Castiel surrounded. But instead of being freaked out, which they really ought to be Castiel was busy yelling at Dean.

Castiel’s clipped tone was loud in Dean’s ear. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d done your investigation properly, instead of just... putting the wammy-” Sam snorted with suppressed laughter. Dean glared at him. “-on those people.”

And Dean had to agree, if he’d asked more questions he might have discovered there was more to this. But he really didn’t see how not reading people’s minds would have helped them and he would have told Cas as much, if they weren’t particularly busy being about to be eaten by a pack of hungry werewolves. “Complain later. It’s go time.” Dean growled and he was gone.

Sam leveled his gun at one of the larger werewolves a shot rang out and it crumpled as two other wolves fell to the ground, long silver stakes protruding from their backs. 

Dean retrieved the silver weapons, hearing a shotgun blast as he did so. Castiel had been given a shotgun, he wasn’t much of a marksman so they hadn’t thought it useful to give him a gun filled with silver bullets, instead he had a shotgun with buckshot, that would at least distract the wolves. This however, had been the plan when they believed there was only one wolf. 

Dean looked over in the direction of the shotgun blasts, he saw the wolf was backing Cas away from the small clearing they were in, trying to get him on his own. Dean was distracted when two more wolves jumped him. Biting and slashing, trying to do some damage and he guessed they did, he felt the claws slash deep into his skin, leaving bloody gashes down his chest, but it didn’t really bother him. He’d have thought it was weird but the image of Cas being backed into a trap, and Dean was standing again, the silver rods piercing two new wolves hearts now.

Not seven, make that eight werewolves total.

Sam had taken down a second wolf and was currently fighting with another, a quick glance and Dean knew his brother wasn’t in imminent danger. Something nagged at Dean for leaving his brother to deal with the wolf on his own, but he has priorities, Sam could hold his own. 

Dean saw the wolf that was after Cas had knocked the shotgun from his hands and had him pinned up against a tree. The werewolf didn’t look interested in killing Cas right out, no. He had much worse plans. 

The wolf leaned his large head forward, jaws parting. 

In his panic Dean completely forgot about being an angel and having powers. He ran at the wolf and grabbed it by the scruff of the neck pulling it’s poisoned jaws away from his Cas. Of course, that didn’t stop him from having superhuman strength. He pulled the wolf’s head back so far that he could look into the wolf’s eyes. “Man, you are an ugly bastard.” 

“DEAN!” 

Dean looked at Cas, who was looking behind him. Great more werewolves.

Dean pulled the head off the werewolf in front of him before turning around to the new ones... he never did manage to turn around, a sharp hot pain in his back sent his mind reeling and his body went rigid.

***

Castiel pulled his angel blade from his coat and lunged at the angel. As his blade pierced her heart she smiled. Castiel felt a wave of terror grip him. He turned to Dean just in time to see him crumple to the ground.

“Cas?!” Sam was running towards them. 

Castiel felt a hand on his shoulder, everything seemed to have slowed down. He pulled the angel’s blade from Dean’s back, it hadn’t pierced his heart, Dean was alive, but damaged, right down to the core of Castiel’s grace which creeped sluggishy through the hunter’s limp form. 

Angels were appearing around them. 

“Cas, we need to go.” Sam squeezed Castiel’s shoulder hard trying to get his attention. “We need to go now.” Sam grabbed his brother’s arm, trying to pull him up, but he felt heavy, so much heavier than he should be.

The angels were closing in on the three of them. This was it, they couldn’t get away, there were too many. Castiel looked into Sam’s eyes seeing the desperation there. Castiel’s own face a mask of despair and futility.

Castiel barely had time to register Sam’s desperation turning to shock when a weak hand grabbed his arm and they were standing by the Impala.

Sam and Castiel both looked at Dean, who was wavering dangerously on his feet next to them. “Car. Go!” was all he managed to choke out before he was tumbling forward again. 

Sam caught Dean before he fell and dragged him bodily to the Impala. 

***


	5. The Chapter Where Everything is Going Very Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is messed up and he just keeps getting more messed up. Castiel is worried and Sam is annoyed that the other two keep leaving him out of the important things happening to his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit long so grab a cup of tea and prepare yourself for an exciting adventure into Dean's battered and broken soul. Or... coffee... I'm actually partial to that pumpkin stuff that Starbucks has right now *takes a long sip making gross slurping noises* Mmm... tastes like tears and pain.

“This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.”

***

Red. Fire and blood. Pain lanced through him. The pain was easy, the pain kept him from thinking. When it pulled away he was afraid. The lack of pain numbing him allowed him to hear the screams, screams of others in unimaginable agony, except he could imagine, because he was living it.

“Don’t you want it to stop?” A smooth voice purred in his ear. “I can make all the pain go away.”

He turned towards the voice and spat a glob of blood on the thing’s face. It smiled. “Some more then.”

Dean screamed as the dull razor raked into the soft flesh behind his ear.

***

Castiel sat close watching over Dean’s body as he lay immobile and unconscious on a bed in the little motel they were staying in. The walls were covered in anti-angel sigils, with the little inscribing below allowing Dean, and Dean only, entry.

“Where the hell did they come from?!” Sam raged for what must have been the dozenth time as he paced back and forth across the tiny motel room. “How do they keep finding Dean? He has that inscription on his ribs, right?”

Castiel had remained quiet, He didn’t want to have to leave them but after what had happened to Dean he couldn’t be so selfish anymore. “It’s me.”

Sam stopped pacing. “What?”

Castiel kept his eyes on Dean, looking for any sign of life. “The angels keep finding me. I am unprotected from their gaze.” Castiel saw Dean’s brow twitch, he could just be imagining it though. “Many angels want me dead. It is why I stayed away.” as long as he could stand to stay away at least. “When Dean wakes I will leave.”

Sam stepped close and sat on the bed opposite Dean, next to Cas. He looked at the hunched defeated form of his friend. “Don’t be an idiot Cas.”

Castiel furrowed his brow confused by Sam’s statement. He moved his eyes from one Winchester to the other a question written clearly on his face.

“If you go out there on your own, you’re just going to get yourself killed.”

Castiel snorted rudely. Eliciting the merest hint of a smile from Sam. “I survived by myself for a month without you.” Castiel could keep hiding away in warded off areas and using banishing sigils if he was caught, he wasn’t completely foolish.

“When Dean wakes up, we’ll just have him put the same wards on your ribs.”

“It is a very complex process, I’m not sure he’ll be able to do it.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure he’d rather figure it out then let you run off on your own.”

***

He’d given up his pride years ago. If he was in pain, he gave in easily to the release of screaming, but it wasn’t much of a release when his lungs had been torn out of his chest and were lying bleeding on the floor next to him.

“I’ve brought you a present, today, Dean.” his tormentor told him happily, like he’d just won a new car.

Dean tried to draw a breath, he fought against the constant feel of suffocation, he just wanted to yell at the thing taunting him. But he was helpless, helpless and broken.

A face appeared before him, some poor woman, her dark blood matted hair hanging in her eyes. She looked like Lisa, and once the thought hit him, he couldn’t shake it. He knew exactly why the demon had chosen this woman. Dean struggled against his restraints, tearing into his own flesh as he did so. He couldn’t get free, but at least the pain was numbing him a little making what was coming easier.

The demon slashed the razor into Dean’s chest, flaying the skin off exposing his clavicle bones. Dean tried to scream but he couldn’t. As soon as Dean opened his mouth in an airless scream, the demon released him and did the same to the woman. Her scream was so much worse than the pain Dean had been experiencing, he fought again against his restraints.

“Would you rather I hurt you?”

Dean knew better than to respond. The demon smiled and dug his blade back into Dean. 

“Don’t scream.”

***

Dean awoke with a desperate gasp, momentarily disoriented. This wasn’t... where was he? Cas was gripping his left shoulder tightly. Dean leaned into the comfort of Cas' touch. Something about that dream was just... to real. Dean shivered and gasped trying to get his breathing under control.

“You weren’t breathing.” The blue eyed man, mere inches from his face, informed him.

“What?” Dean panted back clutching a hand to his chest painfully. 

Castiel inspected his face with his head tilted slightly. “What were you dreaming about?” 

Dean swallowed against the lump threatening to choke him. He flung his legs over the right side of the bed, attempting to extricate himself from the other man who seemed way too interested in things he definitely did not want to talk about, let alone think about. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went out to get food. You’ve been asleep for two days.”

“Two days? I didn’t think angels got hurt.”

“You were stabbed with an angel blade, you are lucky to be alive.” Castiel gave him a hard look. “My grace may be damaged.”

Dean snorted. Rubbing his at his face. “Yeah sorry I hurt your precious grace, I was trying to save your life.”

Had Dean always been this infuriating? Yes. Yes, Castiel thought so. “You should have sensed the angel’s presence, you should not have dropped your guard.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, I was a bit busy.” Dean's head hurt, did angels get migranes? He rubbed his face harder trying to push away the dull pain creeping up the center of his forehead.

Exacerbating, Dean was extremely exacerbating. Castiel was unsure how he’d put up with Dean’s martyr complex all this time. Did he not understand what things would be like for Sam and Castiel were Dean gone. “You must be vigilant!”

Dean gave Castiel his ‘are you serious’ face. “Vigilant?” 

“You are an angel, you must always be aware of your surroundings!” Castiel snapped stepping into Dean’s space. “You need to exert some restraint! You cannot just go around using your powers at full capacity at all times.” He was on a roll, the words tumbling out in the heat of rage. “If you continue like this it is not your life you need to be worried about!”

Dean examined Cas’ face. Not his life? “Cas. What are you saying?”

Castiel looked like he was struggling hard with something, like he hadn’t mean to say what he’d said. Giving up the war with himself, he sighed, drawing back from Dean. “You place your soul in danger.”

“My soul.” Dean cocked his head at that. “Do angels even have souls?”

“They do not.”

“Then...” Dean ran a hand over his mouth. “How can I put my soul in danger if I don’t have one?” He looked up at Castiel, standing a few feet away.

Castiel’s head tilted unconsciously, he worried about Dean sometimes... mostly when he was being incredibly stupid, which was often. “Of course you have a soul, you are still you. Despite having my grace residing in your body.”

Dean turned away from Cas, totally at a loss. He never really considered what the grace had done to him. How it had made him what he was now.

“Your body, your soul. It hasn’t changed. The grace is just granting you angelic power, you are not, however, an angel. Just a human with-” Cas sighed. “-‘angel mojo’.”

“So I can get rid of it then? I could give it back to you?” Dean really hoped he could. As fun as the zapping around, reading people’s minds and, partial invulnerability was... he would take being an ordinary human over it any day. Especially when most of it didn't work right.

“No.” Castiel sat next to Dean on the bed. “I am not sure how to separate the grace from you, and even if there was a way, it would be unwise.”

Dean turned to Cas. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because a part of it is keeping your soul together.”

“You mean the angel stitches, from when you sewed my soul up with after hell?” Dean knew that wasn't strictly accurate, but... he still didn't really understand it.

“That is correct.” Castiel's eyes met Dean's pleading with him to understand. “That is also why overusing my grace could harm your soul. You have no sense of your limits.”

Dean snorted.

Castiel rolled his eyes. Of course Dean wasn't taking this seriously, what was Castiel expecting. “If you wear out the grace that is readily available to you, it is possible that, without realizing it, you could start using the grace from your soul. If you remove the part keeping your soul intact you will not be able to put it back.”

Dean got the sense this was a bad thing. “So what happens if that grace goes away?” He asked, afraid of the answer.

“Nothing good.”

Dean rounded half hooded eyes at Cas... “Elaborate, Freeman.”

Castiel sighed. Castiel knew Dean, he knew how little Dean cared about his own well being. If Dean knew he would probably deem the risks unimportant. “Promise me you will restrain your use of the grace.”

“Cross my heart.”

“Dean.”

“Just tell me.” Dean drawled.

Castiel examined Dean carefully, willing the other man to take this information seriously. “One possibility is that it simply breaks you, leaves you like you were just before I raised you from perdition.”

“So what?”

“So you lose control of yourself and start torturing again. Perhaps you start attacking and harming people, for no reason other than because it gives you joy.”

Dean almost laughed. “I wouldn’t do that.”

He was not taking this seriously. “You did it in hell.”

Dean did not respond for a long time, trapped in uncomfortable memory. “That was different.” Dean couldn’t stop the defensive tone in his voice. “That’s not me.”

“No, but it was and it could be again, this is why you have that grace in your soul. To keep out what Alastair was turning you into.”

Dean shivered. “What else could happen?”

“Your soul could be destroyed.” Castiel looked very uncomfortable. “Your soul dies, the grace would keep your body alive though.”

Dean turned away from Cas. “Kinda like Sammy when he was missing his soul?”

“No not really. It would be much, much worse.”

Dean waited.

“You would have angelic power and it would be impossible for me or Sam to control you. You would not care about either of us anymore, who knows what you would do, with all that power and no soul to keep you in check? The only thing that keeps angels in line is their loyalty and obedience to heaven, and you wouldn't have that either.”

“So... I'd be an unstoppable dick.”

“More so than you already are, yes.” 

Dean let out a hoarse laugh. "I like human you." He punched Cas in the arm gently. 

Castiel smiled sadly.

Dean flopped backwards onto the bed. “Ugh... I’m tired.”

“I imagine you are, after having most of your grace depleted from uselessly wasting your powers, being stabbed, and teleporting us to your car. I imagine you had bad dreams as well.” Castiel gave Dean a sidelong glance, seeing the confirmation in the widening of his eyes. “Do not endanger yourself again.”

***

For three weeks Dean was able to hunt with Sam and Cas without using his powers. Well... not consciously at least. He seemed to have an extra awareness he couldn’t seem to fully turn off. He simply heard people’s thoughts or feel their feelings, if they were loud enough. Every once and a while he would get confused and mention something someone had thought instead of said, eliciting annoyed looks from Castiel and confusion from Sam. He made a special effort to turn off the extra awareness around Sam and Cas but it was getting harder and harder.

That night they were hunting a shifter, everything was going to plan for once, except the part where it had turned into Sam and the two were fighting, one of the Sams clearly losing. Dean may have been considering allowing himself to hear the Sams’ thoughts, just so he knew which one to shoot and which one to save when an angel popped in and stabbed one of the Sams in the heart. 

The reaction was instantaneous. Bright light filled the room as Dean lost control of the power he’d been holding in for weeks, the angel was dead before anyone could blink, Dean caught the dead Sam as he fell.

Then the light was gone and Dean threw the body away casually, turning to his brother, who was, thankfully, the still living Sam. 

“You ok?”

“Uh... yeah." Sam replied shakily, his eyes still watering from the light. "What did you...?”

But Dean was not in the mood. He popped next to his brother and grabbed his collar, popped the two of them to Castiel, grabbing his arm and when they reappeared again he tossed the two bodily onto beds in their motel room du jour, complete with anti-angel wards.

“Cas! Tell me how to tag your ribs!” Deans commanding tone was a little louder than he’d intended, he was still full of angel power that was amp’d up with his anger. 

“No.” Castiel was clearly just as angry as Dean, but Dean wasn’t going to let him weasel out, not this time, not when Sammy was the one the angel had meant to kill.

“You are going to tell me.” Dean fixed Cas with a dangerous look. But Cas just glared right back, silent. 

Sam looked back and forth between the two. “Cas... it would be safer for all of us if you let him do it.”

Castiel fixed Sam with a betrayed expression, but did not comment. 

Sam felt he must have been missing something important, why was Cas fighting Dean so hard on this? Sam knew Dean had been holding back using the angel powers because of Cas, he’d just assumed Dean was trying to be considerate of Castiel’s feelings... what with the grace having once been Castiel’s. But then again, this was Dean and that thought might be naive, when did Dean worry about hurting their feelings? No, there was something else, some reason Dean had been holding back and they were keeping it from him.

Dean sighed, toning down the anger and trying to reign angel mojo in as best he could. “I will be careful.”

Sam looked at Dean in disbelief, there was definitely something very, very, wrong here. He resolved to demand answers from Castiel later. Dean certainly wasn't going to tell him. Dean was probably the reason he was in the dark.

Castiel was torn. He knew they were right, he’d put them in needless danger but after all of the power Dean had just used now was the worst time to let him do anything else. Castiel knew what he needed to do.

Dean could feel where Cas' mind was going. “You are not leaving.” Dean needed him here if something did happen to his soul, he couldn’t go. Cas knew that. Some part of Dean was glad to have a reason to keep Cas from running off, he knew it was selfish, but he wanted Cas here, with them.

Castiel knew there was nothing he could say to talk Dean out of this. So he grabbed the motel notepad and a pen. 5 minutes of silence later he handed Dean three sheets of motel paper.

Dean stared, every inch of the paper was covered in tiny tiny Enochian symbols. “Where did you put all this?”

“On your ribs.”

Dean stared hard at the paper. “It didn’t look like this much on the x-rays...” 

Castiel felt like he was dealing with a child. “What you would have seen on an x-ray was likely only the outermost layer of sigils.”

Dean looked up from the paper. “Layer?” 

It took a good few hours of Castiel explaining how to layer sigils into bone and what all of the Enochian meant before Dean was ready. 

Castiel lay down on the bed removing his leather belt and folding it.

“Uh, Cas what are you doing?” Sam asked, looking a little uncomfortable.

“This will take Dean a lot longer than when I did it. The pain will be intense.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his perch on the bed next to Cas. “I could-”

“No you will not!”

Sam looked at the two of them. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Castiel looked accusingly at Dean. “I have no choice.”

Dean turned to Sam. “Could you go grab the whiskey from the Impala? Cas will need it.”

Sam nodded and walked to the door, he glanced back at Dean and Castiel feeling a wave of apprehension pass through him before he stepped out into the rainy evening.

Dean placed his right palm on Castiel’s chest. “You ready?”

Castiel examined Dean’s face. “Do not be distracted if I scream.” Castiel then placed the belt in his mouth and nodded. 

Dean concentrated.

And that’s when the screaming started.

Cas was right... the screaming was a distraction. Dean grabbed Cas’ shoulder with his left hand. He’d be damned if he was going to let Cas be tortured by Dean’s inability to properly control these frigging angel powers. Castiel’s screaming stopped as Dean filled his friend with numbing peace.

“N-no...” Cas struggled against Dean. “I don’t need-”

“Stop it Cas, that’s distracting.” Dean used his heightened strength to hold the man down while he worked Enochian script into his ribs.

It took longer than Dean had expected, too long, a nagging exhaustion was creeping into his senses when he finally released Cas and staggered back away from the bed.

Castiel looked livid. “You did not need to do that! I was fine!”

“You weren’t fine, Cas, you sounded like... ” Hell. Dean’s brain provided helpfully, but his lips refused to say the word. Everything was spinning. Dean squeezed the bridge of his nose trying to regain his focus. Cas had done this so easily, what was wrong with Dean? Why didn’t the grace just work like it was supposed to?

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice had softened, Dean could sense his worry.

“DEAN!” Sam’s voice, Dean’s mind registered as the sound of shattering glass and feeling of his brothers arms grabbing him tight faded and he fell again into hellfire.

***

Hell, the word could never do justice to the experience. The constant pain, the blade never letting up. If the Dean from when he’d entered hell knew the Dean of twenty five years later he would be ashamed. Dean didn’t have the luxury of shame anymore.

The screams were almost unbearable, but the pain was worse. Alastair dangled the pretty petite blonde in front of Dean, he ignored the voice that told him this one looked like Jo, he didn’t need to think about that. 

“Would you prefer I hurt you instead?” 

Dean shook his head.

Her screams were painful, but Alastair would have hurt her anyway, at least this way Dean had a few pain free moments.

When Alastair was done with the woman he scraped his razor almost lovingly into Dean’s eye.

He didn’t scream.

***

Dean awoke to the sounds of quiet voices talking. They stopped when he stirred.

“How long was I out this time?” He asked, trying to sound casual, the sounds of screaming still echoing in his ears.

“You can’t keep doing this!” Cas glared at Dean, But when Dean looked at Cas, he didn’t see Cas. Or at least not the Cas that he knew. Somehow Dean could see the worry, concern and the fear as if they were tangible things. Something was different now. Those glimpses into people’s minds he’d been unable to really shut out... It was like they’d been amplified a thousand times. Thoughts, emotion, taking up all his vision, blinding him to their outward expressions. All he saw when he looked at Castiel was worry, fear and... something, something that made Dean need to look away. It scared Dean. Turned to Sam, but Sam was a blinding ball of worry at the end of Dean’s bed. He knew. Castiel must have told him.

“Ugh, stop that.” Dean said shielding his eyes.

“Stop what?” Sam said, a violet tread of confusion flowing through his formless worry.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine.” Dean stood, and walked away from them staring into an empty spot in the room, one devoid of blinding emotion.

There was silence for a moment, he could sense Sam and Cas looking at each other, sharing thoughts wordlessly. 

“Dean... we are going to find a way to remove the grace from you.” Castiel said, carefully.

Dean wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He wanted this, whatever it was, gone. Yeah, he did. But... 

“Is that a good idea?” 

He could feel them doing it again, feel the thoughts running through their minds even without looking, even though he didn’t want to know. Castiel had a thought that turned Dean’s blood to ice in his veins. 'If we leave the grace, we’ll definitely lose Dean and he'll become a monster. If we take away the grace he won’t be able to hurt anyone... but there is only a small chance we could save him.'

When he spoke all he said was: “If we don’t remove the grace soon it will kill you.”

Dean was dangerous, he was turning into a monster and they needed to put him down before he killed someone. 

Somehow It was Sam's stray thought that comforted him. 'If he does flip out, at least we have angel blades now.' He knew Sam didn’t consciously intend to think it and he never would have said it out loud.

“Good. I need you to keep thinking like that Sammy.”

Sam started. “You’re reading our minds now Dean?” There was heat in the statement and Dean could feel the sense of betrayal and shame run through his baby bro.

Dean ran a hand through his short, scruffy hair. “Sorry. You guys think really loudly.” The ghost of a smile brushed his lips but vanished the second he tried to look at the two most important people in his life. Castiel’s bubble of emotion turned to dread.

“We don’t have much time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you still with me? *Slurps coffee* If you've made it through this chapter without giving up on my terrible prose, thank you so much! The plan was for the next chapter to be the last of it, but I do have a fondness for the number 7... 
> 
> ^_^ Enjoy the first episode of Season 9 tomorrow! 
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	6. The Chapter...

“What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

***

They were standing in an abandoned warehouse, Dean couldn’t follow much of the conversation that had brought them here, just that Sam wanted to try to call Amalthia. Somehow, she could maybe help them. Dean’s head hurt. All these thoughts and feelings were burrowing into his skin, like lice. He really hated emotion.

Dean watched as Sam prayed, he was certain Sam was praying in words but all he could hear was the feeling behind the words. Worry, concern, fear... Really, when did they all become so co-dependent?

The familiar sound of flapping and Dean let out a sigh of relief, finally, someone that wasn’t just a ball of whiny emotion. He took the opportunity to actually speak to someone that wasn’t going to distract him with their thoughts.

“Hey, Amalthia, right?” She turned to him eyes widening, then she began circling him, examining intently. “Uh...”

“I apologize for my rudeness, however, your predicament is very intriguing to me.” She stopped and stared into his eyes. “You are becoming an angel.”

Dean slammed his hands over his ears as Sam and Castiel’s thoughts were screaming and he suspected they were both asking what they thought were relevant questions.

Amalthia adopted a very loud commanding tone, thankfully overpowering the childish wails from behind him. “Be silent! I know why you called me here, you wish for a way to remove the grace from Dean without destroying his soul, but that is not possible.”

Dean fell to his knees as Sam and Castiel’s emotions overtook him, the act of weakness only making the screaming louder. 

Amalthia crossed the room swiftly pulling the other two a distance away from Dean. “You must learn to control your emotions around him. He cannot block it out and while the change is upon him it will cause him immense pain.”

Sam stared at the tiny dark angel. “Change? What are you talking about? What exactly is happening to Dean?” He could see Dean squishing himself into the farthest corner of the warehouse trembling. 

“He is turning into an angel.” She looked at Castiel. “You must have seen the signs.”

Sam rounded on Cas. “You knew?!”

Cas looked down uncomfortably. “I thought... I thought Dean was different, stronger than this.”

Amalthia laughed unkindly. “A human stronger than grace? You have become awfully soft haven’t you, Castiel.” Castiel just looked away, unable to face them. She eased her tone. “If you truly want to stop the change, I can remove the grace. Perhaps there is enough of his soul left that he will be able to go to heaven when he dies.”

“There must be something... a way to reverse it?”

“I am afraid not Sam Winchester.” She looked back to Castiel.

Castiel looked over at Dean, who appeared to be recovering, he was waivering weakly but at least he was on his feet. “How damaged-” His voice cracked. “Is his soul?”

She gave Castiel a hard look. “It’s irreparable. You should just allow him to change, that broken thing will only cause him pain.” She looked from one to the other seeing their determination. “If you force him to keep it, if he doesn’t die from the pain of tearing the grace out of him he will die from the damage to his soul.” 

Sam and Cas looked at each other, there wasn’t a choice. Dean was scary as a hunter, but as an angel with no soul... he would be terrifying. Neither wanted to lose Dean, but they had to at least try to save him. 

Dean heard their thoughts clear as if they’d spoken them right next to him or yelled them in his face. They wanted to kill him. 

Amalthia barely made a sound as the angel blade was thrust through of her neck, a brief shine of bright angelic light and she was done. The threat had been eliminated. They had no way to kill Dean now.

***

_Alastair was slashing at a boy this time. A boy with rumpled brown hair._

“Dean-!” But Castiel pushed Sam back getting between the brothers before he could attack.

Dean tilted his head uncharacteristically. “I wasn’t going to hurt Sam. I just needed to get rid of the angel before she could kill me.” His voice was so calm, emotionless. It made Castiel shiver. 

“Dean. You’re not in your right mind at the moment.” 

Dean quirked his head and grinned. “So? Isn’t this good?” He looked at Sam “You have a full fledged angel to help you now.”

Sam looked uncomfortable. “Dean, please, let us help you.”

“Help me? You want to kill me.” He was angry now. They knew what he could do, he could be useful now, but all they wanted to do was kill him. Why did he even care about helping them? Castiel. He examined the runt. Castiel had wasted his power, he had become a god and he couldn’t even do that right.

_Alastair smiled a sickening smile at Dean. Would you like me to hurt you instead?_

“Dean please...” The weakness in Castiel’s voice offended the angel. He grabbed the man by his collar and tossed him into the wall behind Sam. 

Castiel tried to stand but his chest felt like it was on fire, shattered ribs trying to puncture his internal organs he slumped weakly back coughing up blood.

Sam rounded on the angel that had been his brother. “What the hell?!” 

The angel smiled pleasantly up at his brother. “What?”

This thing was not his brother, not anymore. Sam pulled an angel blade from his coat but found it knocked out of his hand before he could do anything. His back slammed against the wall.

_Dean stared at the brown haired boy, his eyes were a strange mix of hazel and blue, he reached out for him. Alastair smiled._

Dean had known for a long time he could never be happy so long as Sam was alive. The angel tightened his hold on the Sam’s neck. Sam struggled and choked. Lisa had told him that, he’d known she was right. As soon as Sam showed up he left the family he’d made with her to go back to a life he hated so that he could look out for Sam. That same ungrateful kid who’d trusted a demon before his own brother; who had run out on Dean when Dean needed his trust. Sam had never trusted Dean. Dean who’d looked after him his entire life, Dean who had never let him down, Dean who lived only to protect his stupid little brother. He felt someone tugging on him. It seemed Castiel was still alive, the angel would have to remedy that once he was done with Sam.

Dean could feel Sam’s emotions as he choked. Sam’s regret at failing Dean when he was trapped in purgatory. His terror at losing Dean like this.

“DEAN!” The nagging thing clinging to his back was annoying, but harmless, he let it be.

In Sam’s mind, Dean was young again, offering him soup. When Sam insisted upon sugary breakfast cereal, Dean gave in and gave him the last of the cereal. 

“This isn’t you Dean, you love Sam, you don’t want to do this!”

Sam, as an adult hearing Dad tell him to “Never come back.” Dean broken and bleeding on the ground using the same words. It had cut Sam to the bone.

“YOU’RE KILLING SAM!”

Sam wandering aimlessly when Dean was in hell. Trying to find something, anything to bring Dean back. Trying to exchange himself for his brother and failing at even that. Sam waking up with his soul finally back in his chest, realizing that Dean had lost his one chance to have a family because of him... Sam’s intense pain became a light shining in Dean’s vision, he could see nothing else. 

_“Look out for your brother Dean.” His father’s voice rang in his ears. “Eliminate the threat.”_

Sam was dying, it was Dean’s job to protect him, his only job. Angels were nothing if not obedient to their father. Eliminate the threat, destroy the thing trying to hurt Sammy, this is what needed to be done. Dean released Sam, his body crumpling to the floor. Sam gasped against the wood, not enough strength left to move. “Don’t worry Sam, I got this.”

Dean thrust a hand into his chest. The first thing he felt was pain, sharp searing pain, it took hold of his senses and Dean fell to his knees. 

_Alastair held his razor out to Dean._

Dean felt the grace against his fingers and he curled them around it gently. Then he pulled.

_Take it. Alastair commanded and Dean did._

It was like trying to pull his heart from his chest. Dean screamed in agony.

_Dean didn’t hesitate, he dragged the dagger into the boy, the boy that resembled Sam so much._

“No-no-nononono-” Not this not him, he didn’t want to remember this. Dean pulled harder and with a sudden jolt the grace was free. Dimly Dean could see Cas reaching for him, Sam watching in terror as Dean fell.

_Dean stood over the boy dragging his razor mercilessly across the boy’s tender skin... laughing._


	7. The Chapter Where All the Things Wrap Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tore his soul to pieces and now Sam and Castiel must deal with the fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay endings are a bitch. Anywho, enjoy the final chapter! =D

“Good things do happen, Dean.”

“Not in my experience.”

***

Vague awareness stirred at the edges of his mind, he rebelled against it. 

“Noo...” don’t wake up... didn’t want to wake up. 

Something was pushing him, forcing him back. Something in him was still fighting to live. He could feel the thump thump of his heart against his ribs. 

Just stop, please stop. 

Something inside a charred and blackened, broken thing fought with him. Threatening to suffocate him with suffering, pain... regret. 

“No...” His head rolled against something, something warm and soft. Gentle hands cradled his head, a kind voice speaking words of comfort. He didn’t deserve comfort, he didn’t want it. He willed the thing to stop being so gentle, to carve into his flesh with a burning ragged blade, give him the pain he deserved. 

He struggled against his captor, he needed the pain, it would stop the nagging feelings. He felt like he was drowning. He wanted to hurt the thing that dared try to show him kindness. It was talking to him trying to push him down. He could hear a strange mingled screaming and laughing sound, was the creature holding him making it? 

He pressed into the hands on his chest, he needed them to tear into him, tear into him and pull the charred broken thing out of his chest. The screaming grew louder. The voice speaking to him became panicked, it was pleading with him. 

He reached forward trying to claw the creature off of him, hurt it. He needed pain, he didn’t care whose but the pain would make it stop, make the terrible broken feeling stop. He choked and the strange screaming was cut off instantly. Strong hands wrapped around his neck. He smiled, finally. He welcomed the darkness.

***

“Dean?” Castiel sat in the back seat of the Impala, Dean’s limp form in his arms. 

Gently Castiel removed his hands from Dean’s neck. Castiel could see Sam’s face in the rearview, he seemed to be doing alright, considering he’d just asked Castiel to choke his brother to sleep, not that they’d had much choice. Castiel knew it was all they could do, to make Dean rest. He was so far gone... They’d have been better off killing him, but Castiel couldn’t do that, Sam certainly would not. They weren’t giving up on Dean, so long as there was life in his body, perhaps even if there wasn’t, there was a chance.

Castiel heard Sam sigh heavily, he looked up at the slumped shoulders of his friend. “You going to use that grace or what, Cas?” 

Castiel looked out the window and watched the scenery pass for a long hard moment. He palmed the little bottle of grace in his coat pocket. After what his grace did to Dean, Castiel could not trust it. He didn’t want Dean or Sam to be hurt by it again. He wanted to destroy it, like it should have been when Metatron had used it. There was, however, the complication of Dean. If he used the grace he could perhaps help Dean, and that... he needed to do that. Even if he was afraid, even if he hated the grace with every fiber of his being, it could help Dean. “I will wait until we get Dean safely to the bunker. If I become an angel again I will no longer have a vessel and I will need to spend time procuring one before I can help.” 

Sam nodded silently and the car jolted forward with a surge of added momentum as they hurdled through the darkness to their destination.

***

Sam parked the Impala outside the bunker as near the door as he could manage. He stepped out and opened the back door lifting Dean easily out of Cas’ arms. “Get the door, Cas.” Sam watched Castiel scamper quickly to the door of the bunker. Sam cradled his brother gently in his arms and walked into the bunker. He was getting tired of his brother being on the receiving end of the horrible things that happened to them. Sam couldn’t deny that he hated that Dean was always sacrificing himself for Sam, but when Dean had pulled the grace out of his chest to protect Sam... it scared him. He’d seen how much pain Dean was in while doing it. A small part of Sam had hoped that this time Dean couldn’t do it, he couldn't scar himself again for Sam, yet he’d somehow pulled even this off. 

Sam dropped Dean onto the couch and rounded on Cas. “Alright, he’s safe now. Angel up.” Cas looked hesitant. He pulled the little bottle of grace from his pocket and examined it for a long moment. “Come on Cas. Hurry it up, Dean needs help now.” 

“I...” Cas looked like he was struggling internally for a moment. Then he uncorked the bottle and dumped the grace into his hand.

Sam looked away, shielding his eyes, prepared for the light. But there was none.

Sam looked back. “Cas?”

“I don’t...” Cas looked up at Sam with wide childlike eyes. “I don’t understand.” He still had the grace in his palm. It glistened and sparkled, a bluish silver wisp somewhere between a liquid and a gas. Cas closed his palm around it like he could force it to become a part of him again. “This should work.”

“Is it the wards?”

“The wards have no effect on my grace.”

“Then why?”

“I don’t know why.”

How could this be happening? They’d had a plan, Cas could fix this. It was the only option they had. “We need this to work Cas! Dean is dying!”

Castiel staggered back like the words had punched a hole in his chest. “I know!” Sam was surprised to see tears in his eyes threatening to escape. Cas blinked back against them. “I know...”

He needed to regroup, formulate a new plan, if the grace was useless there had to be something else. 

Sam heard a low moan from the couch, he rushed to his brother’s side. “Dean?”

Dean shifted, then stilled. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, he wasn’t sure he could handle hearing his brothers broken cries again. It hurt to see Dean like this, Dean was his rock. The one that always took care of Sam. He never got used to seeing Dean helpless, ever. And whatever this was, all of hell breaking free in Dean’s soul... he’d never seen his brother so fragile, so... far away. 

Sam placed a hand gently on the side of Dean’s head, gently pushing back his short sweat drenched hair. “Cas. What’s happening to Dean, I mean what’s really happening?”

Sam heard Castiel shift uncomfortably behind him. “When I saved him from hell, he was shattered, he was... becoming a demon.” 

Sam turned back to look at the former angel; Castiel seemed to be trying to find the words. “I used my grace to reverse the damage done to his soul... to purify him. Now that it’s gone... and in such a violent way...” Castiel looked anywhere but Sam. “His soul is much more damaged than it was then.”

“So... what? He’s going to turn into a demon?” Well that... that was a start, maybe he could do something with that.

“Perhaps, if he doesn’t die first.” Castiel seemed glad to be of use now. “There’s a reason why demons are created from dead souls and not living ones. The amount of mental and physical torture required, it is more than a living person can handle... honestly, Dean shouldn’t have survived tearing the grace from his chest. In doing so, he tore his own soul into shards.”

Sam turned back to his brother who was shifting uncomfortably beneath his hands. It wouldn’t be long before he awoke again. “Cas, I need you to watch over Dean for now. I need to make some preparations.” 

Sam could hear Cas’ uneven breathing as he stepped closer. “What... what preparations?”

“There may be something that can help him. But listen Cas.” Sam turned to Castiel. “I need your help here, so whatever’s got you all freaked out... I need you to stow your crap, ok?”

Castiel looked back to the grace in his palm. He watched it for a moment, floating uselessly in his hand, then slipped it gently back in the bottle. “Consider my crap stowed.”

Sam nodded, looking back to his brother. For a long moment Sam just stared. He ruffled Dean’s hair gently. “Hang on...” There was so much he wanted to say, but that tiny encouragement was all Sam could manage. He stood, there was work to do and he needed to focus on that.

***

Darkness, pain. He tensed his arms against the restraints, pulled, but it was useless. Still, his body didn’t accept what his mind knew. He pulled and struggled. If he tore his own arms off that would be fine, the pain would help. He needed to be free, he needed to hurt to kill. His very being lusted for it.

“Dean, stop struggling, please.” The voice told him. It was quiet, kind, and he hated it. 

He pulled harder at the restraints holding his wrists, he could feel them bleeding into the soft fabric around them, meant to prevent the cuffs from chafing. With all his struggling the padding was not doing a good job. 

The man hovering over him was pushing him down. Pleading with him. He wanted to tear it’s eyes out, those damned blue eyes, that stared at him with such warmth and compassion. 

He began to laugh.

The man leaned closer, hands on his shoulders. “Dean, please. You must hold on. Sam is going to help you, but you need to stay with us.” 

He snapped at the man attempting to bite the face, that was far too close to his own. He was pleased to see fear in the man as he lurched away from him. “I’m going to kill you.” The threat was full of venom. This man thought he could help him? If he wanted to help he’d set him free.

The man stood and backed away from him. 

He frowned. He’d scared it away, now he didn’t have anything to play with.

He could hear footsteps as the man walked around the bed in which he was restrained. He pulled desperately against them still to no avail.

“I’m sorry Dean.” a cloth was thrown over his mouth and nose, he struggled vainly, but he could already feel the chloroform doing it’s work. “I’m so... so sorry, this is all my fault.” He could see the blue eyes above him staring into his own brimming with tears. Some part of him, some part that was still fighting wanted to reassure him, to take that pain away.

As his vision clouded and sleep took hold he let the name fall gently from his lips. “Cas...”

***

Castiel was almost sure Dean was gone, completely, irrevocably, but he supposed the hunter was always surprising him. 

“Cas...” It wasn’t much, but it was Dean. He was still fighting... he had to be. Castiel hoped that a part of his soul had survived. He hoped Sam really did have something that could bring Dean back. But hoping wasn’t helping. 

He tossed the cloth aside and checked Dean’s restraints. The demon shackles appeared to be doing their job, he was surprised such old bits of metal were in such good shape. He suspected the men of letters had enchanted them somehow against age and wear. He looked up and examined the devil’s trap above. It was well crafted into the dungeon’s ceiling, this was an excellent place to hold a demon. Though Castiel was not ready to consider Dean a demon yet. He didn’t want to think of why they needed to keep Dean here, he wasn’t possessed and he wasn’t disembodied black smoke. Dean was not that far gone.

The door creaked, shocking Castiel out of his thoughts. 

“Hey, how’s he doin’?” Sam was agitated, he’d spent hours praying and confessing to everything he could think he’d ever done wrong, then tracking down and sterilizing syringes. If this worked, he was not going to lose Dean to an infection or some disease. He was just glad they had the same blood type, that could have been a disaster. 

“He’s worse, but I think he’s still fighting...” Castiel turned to see what Sam had brought with him. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Sam looked up at Cas, surprised. “What? These are the supplies for the demon cure.”

“He’s not a demon, this could harm him.”

“And he’s not harmed enough already?!” “Look at him! He was screaming and laughing like a maniac, he tried to strangle me, and you, back in the car. This is all we have, unless you want to angel up and fix him proper!”

Castiel stared, shocked. He knew the grace wouldn’t take him back, not now, maybe not ever. Sam was right, this was all they had. Castiel nodded to Sam “I understand.” He looked back at Dean, struggling weakly in his sleep. “Just... you were careful?”

“Of course... I know how dangerous this is going to be for him.” Sam took a deep breath. “I should get started.”

“Do you need anything from me?”

“Just... stay. If something happens...” Sam trailed off, he didn’t know how to say it. If something happened to Dean, if he couldn’t finish the spell, if it didn’t work? What would they do? What could they do? This wasn’t like dying, Dean would be done, he’d be gone, forever. Sam couldn’t do it, he couldn’t lose Dean, not again. Last time, when he’d been in purgatory, it had nearly broken Sam. He’d run, unable to face it. He couldn’t... he wouldn’t let it happen again.

Castiel saw the inner torment on Sam’s face and could feel it echo in his heart. They couldn’t lose Dean, he was everything to both of them. Castiel placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed Sam’s shoulder gently. “You can do this.”

Sam nodded, feeling grateful to Castiel. Sam had been harsh to him over the past day but he knew it wasn’t Cas’ fault the grace wasn’t working, he knew Castiel would have saved Dean if there was any way for him to do so. 

Sam took out a fresh clean syringe and began drawing blood.

***

Dean had awoken after the 3rd hour, screaming and cursing. Castiel held him still while Sam injected him with the next syringe. Dean bucked against them trying desperately to throw them off. 

At the 5th hour Dean was begging them to stop. Waves of pain breaking over him. But still they held firm. Castiel reassuring him. Sam promising him that it was working.

When the 7th hour came, Dean was dazed. Memory of the past weeks rushing back to him. He trembled. He could feel Castiel’s soft hands brushing his hair, continuing his litany of reassurances. Dean wasn’t sure how many times he’d heard Cas say he was going to be fine. A lot, he reasoned. When Sam came by with the last syringe he didn’t fight.

When Sam sliced into his own hand and slapped it to Dean’s mouth Dean felt more than a little grossed out. Human blood in his mouth... and ugh... Sam’s. Sam recited the spell and Dean felt warmth flow through him, he felt like he was being put back together. When Sam pulled away Dean’s head fell onto the pillow beneath him. He was so warm. He felt safe for the first time in what felt like eons. He let the exhaustion take him away as he floated into pleasant dreams.

***

“Did it work?” Sam was still staring at Dean, lying unconscious on the bed. 

“It seemed like he was getting better?” Castiel was unsure, but he’d felt Dean calm as Sam worked through the spell. Syringe after syringe of holy blood turning Dean slowly away from the darkness.

Sam placed a shaking hand to his brother’s pulse point. “He’s alive.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait then.”

***

Hours passed, neither Sam nor Castiel wanting to move away from Dean’s still form on the bed. Castiel looked at Sam, he was shaking. The spell had clearly taken a lot out of him. Neither of them had slept since Dean had written the warding on Castiel’s ribs. That felt so long ago now. “Sam, you should rest.” But the hunter just shook his head, never removing his eyes from his brothers face.

“Sam. Please.” 

Sam looked at Castiel. His eyes were rimmed with deep purple and red, exhaustion and emotion written clearly on his sharp features. “Not yet.”

***

Castiel had fallen asleep in his chair by Dean’s bedside. The former angel wasn’t used to needing sleep or fighting it off. Sam watched him snore noiselessly for a while before turning back to Dean. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d finished the ritual. They’d never actually completed it before, Sam wasn’t sure if it would really work on a demon, let alone his brother. 

“Sammy?” 

Sam was startled by the weak sound. “Dean?!” He stood and sat on the bed next to Dean staring intently as his brother opened his eyes. 

“Hey... what I miss?” Dean blinked up at his giant baby brother grinning.

“Dean!” Sam grinned, joy overwhelming him. “That really you in there?”

Dean gave his brother a quizzical look. “Who else would it be?”

“Thank...” Sam wobbled, suddenly the fatigue of the past few days catching up with him. He toppled over on top of Dean.

“Uh... Sammy?” Dean tried to reach for his brother, but his hands were trapped in... cuffs? What the hell was going on here? “Hey!” Dean looked around, as best he could, over the form of the unconscious yeti. He saw Cas not far away snoozing in a chair, head lolled back, drool running down his chin. Dean nearly laughed. God, Cas looked so silly as a mortal. 

“YO! CAS!” 

Castiel started, letting out a loud snort, consciousness returning. “Wha-”

“Some help here?” Dean’s head was poking out under the plaid of Sam’s shirt. Castiel stared at him.

“Dean?”

“Yes. It’s me. Why does everyone seem so surprised by that?” Dean struggled pathetically under his brother’s weight. “Don’t suppose you could get bigfoot off of me?”

Castiel jumped up, energized after his brief nap. Although Sam was still quite large in comparison to the body Castiel now called his own. He managed to roll Sam off of Dean and into a sitting position on the floor, leaning him against the frame of Dean’s small cot. 

“Is he ok?” Dean asked, genuine concern in his voice, it relaxed Castiel greatly to hear it. “What happened? He looks terrible.” 

“How much do you remember?” Castiel asked as he unlocked the cuffs holding Dean’s wrists.

“Remember?” Dean blinked. The past few days were just a blur of pain and darkness. He had been an angel... he remembered that. He remembered the power going out of control, he remembered... “I tried to kill Sam.” 

Castiel could hear the shock and horror in Dean’s voice. Castiel released Dean’s second hand and moved to the shackles on his ankles. “That was the grace, not you. It... it saw us as a threat. You should not feel guilty.” Castiel could feel Dean about to interrupt so he continued on without pausing. “Do you remember what happened next?”

“I... I tore the grace out.” 

“Yes and you broke your soul to do it.”

Dean rubbed at his torn wrists absently. “But... I still-”

“To tear out the grace, that was so much more powerful than you... That you were able to beat it and tear it out, especially when it was in your soul. That had to have taken incredible will. If you feel guilty for losing to the grace, then you do disservice to the sacrifice you made removing it.” Castiel clearly was not going to allow Dean to dwell on self pity. Dean sighed.

“Yeah ok, so I’m awesome then?” 

“Yes. You are very awesome, Dean.” Castiel smiled, releasing the last of the restraints. 

Dean sat up, curling his legs beneath him. “So I broke my soul, huh? How is it that I’m ok now? I mean, you didn’t take your grace back, you were just sleeping... so...?”

Castiel looked at his hands, ashamed. “I am sorry. The grace wouldn’t have me... or perhaps I wouldn’t have it. I resented it for what it did to you. It would not merge with me, so I could not heal you.” He shook his head in dismay. When he looked to Dean, he saw something like relief in his eyes but Dean said nothing, Castiel took it as a sign to continue. “Sam used the demon cure on you.”

“I... what? How does that even make sense?”

“Shattering a soul is what turns it into a demon, so it seemed logical-”

“Wait... was I?”

“No, but becoming a demon, yes.”

“I don’t remember.” Dean wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disconcerted.

Castiel put a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder. “It is doubtful you will remember. What was happening to you wasn’t something a human mind was equipped to deal with. Which is probably why demons tend to not remember their past lives.” 

Dean wasn’t worried about that so much... it was... “Did I hurt anyone?”

Castiel tilted his head. Dean was definitely himself again. Castiel found himself enjoying Dean’s annoying tendency to worry more about others than himself. “No, you were pretty... out of it.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. 

A sudden jolt and the cot started tumbling sideways. Dean jumped up, pulling Cas out of the way. They both stared at Sam who had apparently shoved the cot waking up. “Oh hey, sorry.” Sam said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. 

But Dean didn’t care. Dean grabbed his brother in a bear hug. “I’m so sorry Sammy.” He squeezed Sam tightly in his arms. 

Sam squeezed back. “You’re really ok Dean?” They drew apart. Hazel-blue and hazel-green eyes meeting. 

“I’m really ok, Sammy.” Dean smiled. 

Dean huffed with surprise as his brother grabbed him tight again, nearly crushing his ribcage. “Cas, help me out here?” He gasped. 

Castiel examined the two brothers, then...

“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean sounded shocked.

“I believe this is called a group hug.” Castiel said squeezing himself against the two brothers. Sam laughed and wrapped an arm around Cas as well. 

“Ok seriously guys... what if Kevin walks in? Stop it!” Dean struggled half heartedly in their grip. 

“Where _has_ Kevin been?” Sam mused.

When the two finally released him Dean was scarlet with embarrassment and unwanted feeling. “Just... just... never do that again!”

With that Dean turned on his heel and stormed out of the dungeon.

Sam turned to Castiel. “Definitely back to his old self, then.”

“Seems so.”


End file.
